


Us Together

by SummerMermaid



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28158294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerMermaid/pseuds/SummerMermaid
Summary: Ashe and Dedue have a talk.(a quick self-indulgent fic)
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Us Together

Ashe and Dedue had been living together for something like a year. This closeness had come to afford Ashe with privileges for which he felt intensely grateful. Just one of these gifts was the ability to read Dedue just from his behavior, to be able to understand how he was feeling through more than just words. For instance, he knew that when Dedue went to the private garden tucked away behind their shared space at the inn, he was doing so to think, and think thoroughly about whatever was on his mind. 

Normally, Ashe paid no mind to these intervals among the flowers. Dedue more than deserved the right to his own privacy, his own space to think whatever complicated thoughts crossed his mind. Ashe was more than happy to lend him all the time he needed to be on his own. 

But when Dedue began to spend hours in the garden every day, Ashe couldn't help but begin to feel a hint of worry. He knew that the flowers couldn't possibly need that much attention, and he could tell after a few days of this that something heavy was weighing on Dedue's mind.

At first, he wasn't quite sure what to do about it. If it was this serious, surely it might not be something that Ashe had earned access to. Some things were just far too personal to divulge so easily, and Ashe wanted to respect that. But if it was something that he could offer solace to, he didn't want to just ignore it. Perhaps Dedue wanted to discuss it. Perhaps he never wanted to discuss it at all. The trouble was in deciphering which scenario Ashe found himself in. 

He decided to bring it up during one of their quiet moments together, with Ashe preparing the evening meals as Dedue looked on in a fit of something between supervision and quality time. Every here and there, he would offer a little tip to make the food taste even better, and Ashe was always eager to take his advice. It was one of those little moments where they were unburdened by the expectations of guests, allowed to have real one-on-one time in a space just small enough to qualify as "cozy." 

So of course Ashe had to ruin it by trying to pick Dedue's brain. 

"Has something been bothering you lately?"

Ashe was stirring a stew when he asked, and he tried to distract from the anxiety of the situation by focusing on the meaningless details of peas and carrots. Every meal that left the inn's kitchen seemed to have been delicately crafted by the meeting of their minds, all of their love and understanding going into the food to make sure that it was warm and of course, delicious. 

Dedue, as expected, responded with his usual calm demeanor: "What makes you ask?"

"Oh, well…" Ashe continued to stir, "It's just that you've been in the garden so much lately. Usually you go in there when you want to think about something." He swallowed, watching bits of beef as they simmered in rich sauce, avoiding Dedue's eyes for fear of suspicions that might be in them. 

"Really?" asked Dedue. "I hadn't noticed."

"Maybe it's just me," Ashe said quickly, not wanting to offend. He felt guilty enough prying into Dedue's personal business. He didn't want to make himself look foolish by making assumptions that turned out to be entirely false. 

"It's not just you," said Dedue, and Ashe finally looked up to find a very pensive-looking man before him. Dedue was leaned against one of the cabinets, so diligently stocked with the vegetables and spices that Ashe bought in town, and had one hand covering his mouth as if it were a secret. Something really had been large and burdensome upon his mind, and hopefully Ashe would be able to get to the bottom of it -- should Dedue want him to, that is.

"Is it something you'd like to talk about?" Ashe asked. He realized that he'd torn his attention away from the food, and quickly tended to the pot before he found himself in the kitchen with little but burned stew and a lover made uncomfortable by his prying.

"I'm… not quite sure, actually," said Dedue, fingers still poised gingerly over his lips. His eyes were on Ashe's hands, watching them work and cook and do all those little busy things that he did as the owner of the inn. Ashe didn't tend to admit it aloud, but he loved those moments when Dedue seemed absorbed in watching him. It made him feel quite adored, in truth. It was one thing to love someone in the bedroom, or even with their hand clasping yours. It was another entirely to feel admired during the mundane, or even the laborious.

"Well," said Ashe, "if you do want to talk about it.. I'm happy to listen." That was all it took. No pressure, but an offer of willingness to help with the burden. Some things were just that simple.

"I've been… thinking about the war," Dedue said, and Ashe's stirring hand found itself stayed for just a moment. They never discussed the war. There had been no formal agreement. It had just been one of those unsaid things, an object of conversation that neither of them ever seemed wanting to broach. And that was okay. Some things were better left behind to rot to nothingness.

"The war," said Ashe in a quiet voice. Dedue no doubt picked up on his hesitation to travel this conversational path, he always picked up on those sorts of things. 

"Yes," Dedue said. "But if you'd rather not discuss it, I understand." 

The war had left them both scarred, of course, physically and emotionally. Up until that moment, part of the healing process had seemed to be acting as if it had never happened at all. 

Still, if it was on his mind so severely, Ashe did not want him to suffer the weight of those scars alone.

"I want to talk about it," said Ashe, "if you've been thinking about it that much."

"It's hard to say," Dedue said. The stew bubbled, and Ashe paid it some attention as he gave Dedue the time he needed to gather his thoughts together. "I've certainly been thinking about it, yes, but it's not something I very much enjoy talking about."

"I understand," said Ashe, because he did indeed comprehend the pain and trauma that had been cast upon them by those months. It was amazing how a time so relatively brief could impart such horror, encapsulating a lifetime's worth of pain in only a matter of weeks. 

Up until that day, those months had long been scattered to the wind and silently abandoned by Ashe and Dedue, instead choosing to be happy together in the place they called home. But, Ashe supposed, they could not be expected to outrun its pains forever. Everyone had to slow down to breathe at some point.

"Ashe," Dedue said. He strode forward quite suddenly then, but not far enough to intrude on Ashe's personal space. Ashe wasn't startled. Nothing Dedue could do would ever perturb him. He knew him far too well for that. 

"Yes, Dedue?"

Dedue looked at him for a long while, and then sighed before speaking: "Do you ever feel as if we're just ignoring things?"

Ashe turned the heat off on the stew, allowing it to simmer quietly without disturbance. He went about fetching the bowls and dishes they kept in the cabinets, and Dedue stepped in to help him as he worked. Ashe almost regretted that he'd even brought up the whole affair, as it would have allowed him for a quiet time alone with Dedue. But then, he supposed, that was a selfish whim. 

"Ignoring what?" Ashe asked once they'd gotten all the bowls down.

"What we've done," said Dedue. "Do you ever feel like this life we have … this life we've created together … that it's all a farce? How can people like us be allowed this shred of peace?"

Ashe frowned. "Dedue…"

"I just worry is all," Dedue said. "I worry that we're trying to get away from something that can't be left behind. Sometimes I try to sleep and all I see are the people I've slain. It follows me everywhere. I can imagine that things are just the same for you."

Ashe swallowed. "I do," he said. 

Dedue was close. Ashe could practically hear him breathing. He wanted to push this conversation away and fall into his arms, washing off the pain of their past and instead opting to 

continue pressing forward as they had until that day. But deep inside himself, he knew that doing so would only make the pain all the more potent when they did finally face facts.

"Do you ever wonder if we did the right thing?" Dedue asked. Ashe looked into his eyes, so inviting and kind, and didn't have to imagine to consider all of the things they'd seen. After all, he'd been right there on the battlefield with him. 

"All the time," said Ashe, his mouth dry and nerves rattled. He'd once thought it impossible to ever feel such a way when Dedue was around, but the sordidity of his past had a way of making sure he never felt truly at peace. Up until that day, however, he'd just kept it close to his chest, figuring it best abandoned. 

"Do you think we did the right thing?" Dedue asked.

The answer to this one was rather simple: "I don't know." Ashe shook his head slightly. "I don't think I'll ever know, and some days I feel like it's just too much."

Dedue looked at him thoughtfully, and lifted one hand to gently hold Ashe's face. Before he even registered that he had been crying, Ashe noticed the heat of tears pouring down his face in silence. Dedue's eyes glassed up just the same, and Ashe felt intense regret for dredging this up. He couldn't bear to see Dedue weep. It just wasn't right. 

"May I kiss you?" Dedue asked, and Ashe nodded so quickly he thought his head might very well pop off. Dedue leaned in and pressed their lips together so gently that they barely touched at all. Dedue was being cautious as always, delicate and tender in his ways. His thumb lovingly stroked Ashe's jaw as they stood there in the kitchen, and Ashe's hand traveled to his shoulder to hold onto him, his world in a person. 

"I'm so sorry, Dedue," said Ashe in a voice dampened by tears. "I'm sorry that I don't have all the answers. I'm sorry that we went through all of that. I'm just so sorry." He tilted his head upwards to kiss Dedue again, feeling his warmth as their forms connected so sweetly. He wanted to get away from this world of war and bloodshed, to take refuge in the kindness of his lover forever and never let him feel pain again.

"I love you," said Dedue against his mouth, and Ashe thought he might sob. Dedue had never deserved to be forced into the battlefield, not someone as gentle as him. It was a tragedy that he'd been made into a soldier, distorted and debauched for the greed of men. 

"I love you too," said Ashe through his tears, "I love you so much, Dedue. More than anyone. Anything."

Dedue's arms wrapped around Ashe's waist, and the plating of the stew was soon forgotten as they continued to kiss each other. Ashe's hands explored the expanse of Dedue's scarred arms, as if he could melt them all away with the gentleness of his own touch. He knew those scars would always stay, but for just a few moments, they could ignore the pain by hiding away inside of each other. It had always been this way between them, seeking respite from the chill of the world's indifference in a molten mutual affection. 

When their lips broke apart once more, Ashe found himself in want of something to say: "Dedue, can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

"I feel the very same fears that you do," said Ashe. "All the time. Why, sometimes I wonder whether I deserve to have any of this. The things that I've done. The things that I've seen. Some days I feel like it's all on my shoulders. And its weight is so heavy, Dedue."

Dedue was silent for a few moments, their lips just breaths apart as they stood closed in together in that already small kitchen space. Ashe could feel his exhales against Dedue's skin, hot and fearful of things that had long since passed. Ashe briefly wondered if it had been wise to even admit to his feelings.

But of course, Dedue would never shame him. "It's incredibly heavy," he concurred finally. "But we're not bearing its weight alone."

Ashe's eyes widened just a hair. "Oh, no, of course not," he said. "Dedue, I'm here to bear that with you. I want to be here to lessen your pain. Whatever I have to do to make you happy, you just say it."

Dedue stroked the silvery mess of Ashe's hair, and Ashe felt a hint of a smile on his lips. They kissed each other once more, soft and sweet and all too gentle for such a heavy conversation. Ashe craved the feeling of his flesh whenever they were apart, even if it was just inches. Dedue was so very much to him. 

"You never have to be alone with me, Dedue," said Ashe. 

"I know," said Dedue. 

They kissed once more, and Ashe basked in the glow of their affections for just a few moments before he came to a quick realization: "Oh no, the stew!"

He quickly turned around, Dedue still right behind him, and began to ladle his kitchen creation into the bowls. Dedue watched on, finding a little bit of joy in seeing Ashe do his work so diligently. It was as if he was made to care for the inn, to provide little bits of comfort to people as he so often provided them to Dedue. It was in his nature to be giving. It always had been.

That night, they hadn't yet spoken again about what had transpired in the kitchen. Dinner had been served, and the guests gone to bed, and they were instead focused on indulging in the reprieve of another sun having set and gone into a starlit night. Ashe put on his most comfortable pajamas as Dedue took to the bed. Ashe soon crawled in beside him, feeling the warmth of his companion's body and enjoying the usual tangle of their limbs that came from this part of the day.

"I do love you, Dedue," sighed Ashe, his head resting on his lover's chest as it rose and fell. "I love you so very much. Sometimes I feel like my heart might up and burst."

Dedue chuckled, and Ashe felt it rumbling through his body like sweet thunder in a cleansing rainstorm. "I very much enjoy when you say such kind things to me," he said, stroking Ashe's hair. Ashe sighed warmly, nuzzling further into Dedue's torso. 

They were silent for a while, soaking up the inviting feeling of being loved and safe and surrounded by softness. But the memory of what had happened just hours ago still sat in the room with them, and Ashe felt it only fair to give it some attention lest it become too burdensome to bear. "I did mean what I said to you earlier, Dedue," he said. "All of it."

"I know," said Dedue, his fingers still laced through Ashe's tresses. 

"Do you think…" Ashe paused, choosing his words with care. "Do you really think that we deserve to have moments like this? That we deserve to have any of this?"

Dedue was still. Even his breathing felt suddenly stiff under the weight of this question. Ashe felt a tinge of regret. Perhaps it would have been best to just ignore the whole thing. Dedue's eyes were trained towards the ceiling, with its cracks and chips that were always being put off in favor of other duties that Ashe had to attend to. 

"I don't think it's up to us to decide," said Dedue. "Someday, perhaps someone will. And perhaps it will turn out that we've deserved none of this. But that day isn't today."

Oddly enough, Ashe found comfort in this sentiment. For someone who was in charge of running just about all of the inn's affairs, it was nice to be told that something -- let alone something so very large -- was simply out of his hands. 

"Do you really mean that?" he dared to ask. "Or are you just saying it to make me feel better?" He knew Dedue would never lie to him. But something buried deep in Ashe's gut called for reassurance.

"I do," said Dedue. "All those hours that I've spent in the garden, I do quite a bit of thinking about this. And sometimes I doubt it just as you do now. But I often have to remind myself that there's little point in fussing over things that just don't have a clear answer. That's not my purpose in life."

Ashe took a moment to digest these words, to think about what Dedue was telling him. In truth, hearing these words from Dedue's mouth made him feel more at ease than if they had come from someone else. He trusted his lover intensely, and put his opinions in high regard. If he thought that there was no point in fussing, well, that just made it so for Ashe. 

"Thank you, Dedue," said Ashe. "Thank you for everything that you do for me."

Dedue's hand traveled idly down the slope of Ashe's back, going under the cloth of his pajamas and rubbing at the soft flesh beneath. "I'm simply saying what I think to be true." 

"Well, regardless," Ashe said, "it means the world to me. As do you."

Dedue smiled. Ashe pulled himself closer, letting his lips press a gentle kiss to the underside of Dedue's strong jaw. They fell asleep like that, looped in each other's arms and worn out from a long day of work. They would awake just the same, confident that each had the other's love held in the palm of their hand, and so long as it was there, they would not be alone. No matter how harsh the judgments of the world, their hearts were safe in each other. 


End file.
